Two Heroes
by SkinOfInk
Summary: Those missing moments of The Last Olympian, while Percy Jackson was off racing to Camp Halfblood to save Rachel, from Clarisse's point of view. She deals with the death of her closest friend Silena, and comes to terms with what she missed while she was holding a grudge. Oneshot.


**A/N: **_My first one shot! I was just thinking that Riordan kind of skipped over the affects of all those deaths, or at least he didn't make them affect certain people enough. The person I felt should have been more...damaged, shall we say, was Clarisse. This is the product of those thoughts. Hope you guys like it!_

* * *

When Silena was dying, Clarisse's first thought was to call herself stupid, but she told Silena that instead.

Silena died.

Clarisse's second thought was horror and sadness.

Her third thought was revenge. Usually it would have been first, but the drakon that'd killed her friend was already dead by Clarisse's hand.

Clarisse knew she fought well. She might have been the best warrior at camp had Percy not shown up. Still, she had never fought like this before. Maybe it was because she'd only ever been fighting for her own life, for duty, and the laurels at the end. This time it was for someone else, it was for all of them, because no one else would die on her account today.

To be honest, she hadn't really noticed the red glow around her. Dad's blessing, supposedly a rare and honored thing. About time, more like it. She had tried not to think about Silena, and the fight had kept all those thoughts at bay, as it always did. The fight was how she escaped, so why did it have to end so soon?

She'd yelled for Kronos at the top of her lungs, thinking that it was now of all times that he should come, to keep her from melting down into a pot of boiling guilt and despair. Come Kronos, keep the feelings away. Just let the fight go on a bit longer, just a bit longer. And then he came.

His honor guard first, with the hyperborean giants. Clarisse charged, spear forward, chariot racing. But the red glow was gone, though she didn't know it. One giant blew some frost at her, and she was done, frozen in a solid block of ice. How pathetic.

Clarisse blacked out for a while there, in a world of cold and anger and guilt. She awoke to find Chris, helping her out of the shambles of the ice block she had been frozen in. A few other campers backed up, holding swords, pickaxes, and anything else they could find to break the ice.

Chris helped her out of the chariot, which was then promptly swarmed with Ares and Apollo campers trying to free it from its icy fortress. Chris had a huge grin on his face as he helped her sit down on the steps of the Empire State Building. Others were smiling as well. Some laughed and hugged their friends, their acquaintances, their enemies. It was like Clarisse had fallen asleep, Rip Van Winkle style, and awoken to find the world had completely turned on its head.

"I'm guessing we won then," Clarisse said, smiling weakly at Chris.

"Yeah," he replied, sitting down next to her and holding her hand gently. Usually Clarisse didn't like it when they showed affection in public, but really no one was paying attention to them. Clarisse let shivers wrack her body, and felt Chris' arms go around her, warming her up. He still couldn't get that grin off of his face.

Clarisse couldn't seem to share in his happiness though. She felt like she'd missed everything, that the fight had passed over her and she was left in the mindset of when everything was still in chaos.

"Guess what I heard?" Chris said suddenly.

"What?" Clarisse asked, content to humor him. Her body still felt ten degrees too cold, and his arm was the only thing that seemed to warm her up.

"Jackson made the gods swear to claim every single last one of their children, and the minor gods get cabins at camp." Chris beamed at her, and Clarisse couldn't help but smile back. He might get claimed at last, but more importantly, no one would have to go through the consequences of being unclaimed ever again. Chris knew that better than anyone.

Clarisse's smile didn't last long though. Shouting jerked her out of her and Chris' reverie. It was the Ares and Apollo cabins over by the now resurrected chariot. The process of melting had been aided by a few fire and explosive arrows from the Apollo cabin. Now the chariot was fully out of the ice, the drakon skin still attached. But it wasn't the chariot that caught her attention, it was the campers fighting over the flying one that had estranged the two cabins in the first place. Apparently, the presence of the normal one had sparked the old argument between the two cabins.

"I mean, don't you think you guys should give it back? You weren't even here for the battle!" one Apollo camper said.

"It was always ours! And your sorry butts would have been kicked by monsters if it wasn't for us!" an Ares camper snapped.

"So you think you can just waltz back in here and take what we captured in the first place?"

"You were the ones who left it at camp! Losers weepers!"

"Finders keepers!"

"SHUT UP!" Clarisse yelled. She stood, and marched toward the two cabins, all thoughts of the cold lingering in her limbs abandoned. Clarisse only wished she had her sword or spear to knock some sense into these people. Will Solace emerged from behind some braver Apollo kids in front of the group, and went to stand before her. Clarisse frowned.

"Where's Yew?" she snapped, narrowing her eyes. Will looked taken aback, but in a sad sort of way.

"You don't know?" he asked.

"Well he's from your cabin isn't he?" she said. Will's expression softened further.

"He's . . . he's missing in action, or dead." Clarisse froze, for the second time that day.

"How did it happen?" she asked slowly.

"The cabin was fighting on the Williamsburg Bridge, and after it collapsed, no one could find Michael anywhere. I guess you didn't get the news back at camp," Will said. Clarisse flinched. He might not have meant that last part as an insult, but Clarisse felt it all the same, like a blow below the belt.

"I'm sorry," Will continued, almost looking like he wanted to put a hand on her shoulder. He wisely chose against this.

"He was your cabin mate," Clarisse muttered, pushing past him. The two cabins had now stopped their argument to watch her exchange with Will. Their stares put her on edge.

"What's this all about?" she barked, knowing full well the topic of the argument.

"Um . . . the flying chariot . . ." one of the Ares campers said weakly.

"Oh, you guys are still upset about that are you?" Clarisse said dangerously. The camper who had just spoken took a step back. Unfortunately, so did everyone within earshot of Clarisse.

"You're welcome to the chariot Clarisse, Michael's offer still stands," Will interrupted, hoping to curb some of Clarisse's anger. "I was actually trying to tell them about that before you came over."

Clarisse turned to Will, her eye's murderous. "Don't you dare say another word," she said. "Don't you dare. I don't ever want to look at that chariot so much as touch it. Do you understand? Do you?!" Everybody took another step back, but Clarisse wasn't finished yet.

" 'cause I don't think you do!" she continued. "Silena died because of that chariot! Because of that stupid rivalry we had! And you think I still want it?! NO! Keep that stupid piece of scrap away from me. Throw it into Tartarus for all I care." Her rant over, Clarisse breathed heavily, glaring at all who dared look at her. Then she realized something.

"Where's Silena?" she asked.

They were all silent for a second, taken aback by her sudden turn. Clarisse waited, more than a little scared that the girl's body had been forgotten or totally mangled. The Gods help those caught in the aftermath of that reality.

"We brought her up to Olympus. She should be tucked away in one of the minor god's houses. Kronos probably wouldn't touch those," Will said, taking a tentative step forward. Clarisse nodded, starting towards the Empire State Building, but turned back to Will before she disappeared inside with Chris.

"Keep the chariot," she said, just to make sure everybody got the message.

Clarisse kept silent all throughout the elevator ride to Olympus, after pushing her way through those celebrating in the lobby, and the few confused mortals stumbling around, trying to find their lost cellphones and cars. Chris said nothing either, probably because he knew she just wanted silence. Sometimes, Clarisse just really loved her boyfriend, although the music was awful.

Clarisse found Olympus crumbling, but equal to the level of celebration downstairs. Gods, spirits, satyrs, they all laughed and cheered. Clarisse questioned each one carefully, and instructed Chris to do the same, hoping to find Silena as soon as possible. One minor god actually owned the house she was put in, and led them to it. Chris made to go inside with her, but Clarisse stopped him, holding up her hand.

"I…" she started to say, trying to find the right words. "It's only a one person job." Chris nodded. He was good at figuring out what she really meant when she didn't want to express it in so many words.

Clarisse found Silena laid out carefully on the floor, Clarisse's half corroded armor still on her fragile body. Clarisse knelt by the girl as quietly as possible. She vaguely wondered why she took the time to be silent; there was no way to wake the dead. Sadly.

The daughter of Ares carefully took the hand of Silena, and held it in her own, feeling tears start to sting at her eyes. She fought them back for all she was worth, but there was no one to see, less danger. They came at last.

Clarisse was never good at showing her feelings, besides anger at least. She didn't want to show her feelings. Crying was for sissies, like those Apollo wimps…Clarisse felt her breathing begin to hitch, her nose start to run. Those Apollo wimps had been here fighting, had been here helping save Olympus. Where had she been? Sitting on her butt at camp, making sure each and every one of her siblings did the same. She had refused to save her friends, refused to see the gravity of the situation.

Clarisse felt some of her tears roll off her nose, splashing Silena's hand. Clarisse tried to compose herself, tried to stifle the sounds. What if somebody heard? But no one was there to hear. Just a dead girl. A girl that might have been her only friend, the only one to ever try to get to know her besides Chris…Oh gods.

Clarisse couldn't stop crying, and suddenly she was telling Silena's peacefully sleeping face all of her doubts, doubts about deserving to lead the Ares cabin, doubts about whether anyone would miss her if she actually died. Doubts about everything. Silena had listened, had listened about Chris. How had Clarisse repaid her? How had she thanked her only friend?

"I'm sorry Silena," she whispered. "I'm so so sorry."

With that, Clarisse gingerly lifted the Aphrodite girl's body, carrying it carefully out the door so that her head and feet didn't hit the frame. If Chris saw the remains of tears on her face, he said nothing, merely stroked her back as they walked along. He understood. He always understood.

Nobody else said anything either as they saw Clarisse carrying the dead spy out of the Empire State Building. They saw two heroes, each who had tried to atone for their mistakes. Two heroes, one who didn't yet know she was forgiven, or maybe she just wasn't ready to forgive herself.


End file.
